WHO   :   Closed | @amoonlitmemory​ WHERE   :   The Tavern WHEN   :    late Afternoon

Oh. Oh shit.

Her heart stopped the second she saw the name above the message. That was not meant for him.

Ruby sat up so fast that she nearly knocked her phone out of her hands. Sleepy confusion turned into full-blown horror as she clicked back to the chat, praying she was hallucinating. Nope. There it was. Sent. Delivered. Read.

She slapped a hand over her mouth, as if that would somehow undo the fact that King—her neighbour King—had just seen that.

Her mind raced. Maybe he hadn’t actually looked at it yet? Maybe he’d just seen the notification and ignored it? But no, knowing him, he definitely opened it. Her stomach flipped at the thought.

Okay. Breathe. Fix this. Damage control.

Fingers shaking, she quickly typed out a message:

"OH MY GOD. King, that was NOT for you. I am SO sorry. Please just pretend you never saw that. Or delete it. Or—oh my god, this is humiliating."

She hesitated for half a second before sending it, then groaned, flopping back onto her bed and covering her face with both hands. Of all the people…

truth be told king had always had a thing for her. did he do anything about it? oh, absolutely not. he was the first one to be informed of her useless and irritating male partners she kept and yet he never tossed his hat in the ring. he'd made jokes about it because they had this thing between them, a sort of tension if you will that couldn't entirely be pin pointed. he liked it that way, ad he enjoyed being the one person to wind her up. on this evening in particular he was just about to text her as her light was still on quite early. they'd been neighbours long enough he could catch the glow in the corner of his eye even where he was sprawled out on his bed. it wasn't until his phone pinged and he realised it was her, he was a little surprised. could she read his mind? not really thinking anything of it he clicked on the picture half asleep before he realised the extend of what was on his screen. well. his evening took an interesting turn. @littledaydreamers

"Well, you sure know how to make a girl blush. You don't look so bad yourself, handsome."

@littledaydreamers liked this for a lyric starter or two

"I'm not sentimental, but there's somethin' 'bout the way you look tonight, mm, makes me wanna take a picture. make a movie with you that we'd have to hide."

Mei froze mid-rant, her fingers tightening just a little around the bandage she was wrapping around his leg. Her eyes narrowed into dangerous little slits. "Oh-ho, crispy, is it?" she echoed, voice deceptively light. "Just a little crispy? Owen, you look like a marshmallow that someone dropped into a campfire and then tried to convince everyone was still edible!" Ok, so maybe she was exaggerating a little, but she was just trying to get her point across.

She huffed, pressing the bandage down with just enough extra force to make him wince. "And elbow grease and a scrubbing brush?! Oh wow, thank you, Mr. Domestic, for your deep and insightful cleaning wisdom! I’ll be sure to remember that while I’m on my hands and knees scraping your poor life choices out of the floorboards!"

Her frustration hitched when he grinned at her—grinned!—like this was all some big joke. Like she wasn’t currently battling the very real urge to smack him upside the head with the nearest throw pillow. "Owen, I swear to everything good and sparkly--If you make one more joke—" And then he called himself a big, glazed doughnut.

For a moment, silence. Then, a deep, slow inhale through her nose. "Oh, you did not just—" The glare she gave him was like none other she'd ever given.

But just as quickly as it flared, her anger deflated. She sighed, shoulders slumping, as she secured the last of the bandages with a little more gentleness. "You know I hate this, right?" Her voice had lost its sharp edges, replaced by something quieter—something raw. "I hate seeing you like this. I hate that you act like your pain is just… a funny little inconvenience. I hate that you think I only care because of the mess or because I have to clean you up." She tied off the bandage with a little flourish and then sat back on her heels, arms crossing. "I care, you big, dumb, freshly burnt doughnut because you matter. Because you being okay matters."

She sniffed, then nudged his uninjured leg with her foot. "And because I like stealing your medical supplies, but that’s beside the point." A pause. Then, grudgingly, "... You are kind of a glazed doughnut, though."

Owen sighed, though the attempt was somewhat stifled by a sharp intake of breath as Mei pressed a bit too firmly on the singed flesh of his thigh. "Explosion battlefield? Now that's just colourful," he mumbled, trying to inject a lightness into his tone that he wasn't entirely feeling. He knew Mei worried, and he appreciated it, even if her worrying took the form of theatrical frustration and a concerning knowledge of bloodstain removal techniques.

He watched her, amused despite the discomfort, as she ranted about cotton and floorboards. "Relax, Mei. It's nothing a little elbow grease and a good scrubbing brush can't fix." He even managed a small, lopsided grin. He knew she hated that he dismissed things so easily, especially when those "things" involved explosions and blood, but it was his default setting. Panic rarely solved problems.

When she called him a doughnut, he chuckled. "A big, glazed doughnut," he corrected, then immediately regretted it as her glare intensified. He understood her frustration, truly. He knew seeing him hurt bothered her more than she let on.

"I know, Mei," he said softly, his eyes meeting hers. "But I'm alright. Just a little… crispy. Besides," he added, attempting to lighten the mood again, "who else would you steal medical supplies from if I wasn't constantly providing a reason to?"

Eleanor sighed. She was fed up with men beating on their chests and acting like alpha males. Something told her William Adams would be no different. "It depends. Do you finally have something useful to say?"

open to; f muse; william adams. 34. detective. plot; the captains daughter becomes your new partner but we don't along at ALL

Hell. He was definitely in hell. Or this was some sick joke the universe decided to play on him. He must have done something horrible in a past life. "Can't you just listen to me for five minutes?"

Rhiannon stood frozen in the middle of the road, her bare feet numb against the cold, slick asphalt. The rain poured down relentlessly, soaking her to the bone, but it didn’t seem to faze her. She shivered violently, her body trembling with the chill, but her gaze remained fixed on something distant, something far beyond the reach of the storm. Her clothes clung to her skin, dripping with water, but it was the bare feet that seemed most out of place, her toes curling against the icy ground, leaving behind smudges of wet footprints where she stood.

When she finally spoke, her voice was weak, barely audible over the roaring storm, but there was a coldness to it that seemed to cut through the rain. "I’m fine," she muttered, though the words were barely a whisper, strained with the effort of speaking. She didn’t acknowledge him, didn’t move even as her body continued to shake uncontrollably from the cold.

Her teeth chattered as she spoke again, her voice sharper this time. "You shouldn’t have stopped," she said, her tone distant, as if the words weren’t meant for him at all. "It’s not safe for you here." She let out a soft, breathy sigh, her feet shuffling slightly on the wet ground, but her gaze never wavered from the horizon.

closed starter for @littledaydreamers based on this

Rain was already spitting against the windshield, blurring the already indistinct lines of the two-lane highway. Lucas gripped the steering wheel tighter, knuckles white. The weather report had been dire – flash flood warnings, potential hail the size of golf balls – and all Lucas wanted was to be home, safe and dry. He glanced in the rearview mirror, a habitual check even though he hadn’t seen another car for miles. Empty. Just the churning blackness behind them, reflecting the red glow of their own taillights.

A jolt of adrenaline shot through him as his eyes snapped back to the road. Someone. Standing right in the middle of the lane. Lucas slammed on the brakes, the tires screaming in protest against the slick asphalt. The car shuddered to a halt just inches from the figure.

Heart hammering against his ribs, Lucas shifted into park and killed the engine. The sudden silence was broken only by the increasing patter of rain against the roof and the frantic thumping of his own pulse. "Okay, okay, stay calm," he muttered. This was probably just some poor soul who's car had broken down, he reasoned.

Taking a deep breath, he grabbed a flashlight from the glove compartment and got out of the car.

The figure was definitely human, though the darkness and the rain made it difficult to see clearly. They were facing away from the car, head tilted back, as if staring at something only they could see in the storm-wracked sky. Their clothes were damp and clinging to their frame, and a shiver wracked their body, but otherwise, they were motionless.

"Hey! Are you alright?" Lucas called out, cautiously approaching. The flashlight beam danced over the stranger's back. "I almost didn't see you. Are you hurt?"

a plot where...

a rough around the edges, con artist girl is doing dirty work for her shitty boyfriend and they decide to target a rich, wealthy, cocky sort of young socialite male who feels like his life is a bit empty and redundant, and she may seem like she’s in this con artist game for the money (and she is, partly, because she grew up really poor and knows how it feels to starve) but she also has an unhealthy attachment to the boyfriend even though he treats her like crap and uses her to attract rich males, and then, on the night where she has dressed up and come up with a fake name and is about to make her move on the rich young man she realizes oh, he’s actually extremely attractive and cute and not like the other creepy old men she preys on? and oh, he’s actually extremely charismatic and witty and charming and kind of a dick, but not to her? and oh, now they’re kind of going out on multiple really amazing dates and spending tons of time together and she’s supposed to be digging for his deepest secrets and finding out numbers to his safes and stealing jewelry pieces he probably won’t miss and then one night, her wallet falls out of her bag and… OH, why is her name not the name that she said it was on her drivers license and why are his personal, private cartier bracelets engraved with his initials in there too and who the fuck is calling her phone ??????

Kai saw red.

One second, he was watching Pia put on a damn show, her every move calculated to get under his skin. The next, some guy was pulling her in, pressing his lips against hers like he had any damn right.

Before he even processed it, Kai was moving. He wasn’t the type to make a scene—well, not really—but this? This was a fucking joke. His fist connected with the guy’s jaw in a clean, sharp punch, sending him stumbling back. The music didn’t even drown out the collective gasps around them, but Kai didn’t care. His knuckles ached, his pulse hammered in his ears, and his sharp gaze cut to Pia before she could react.

“Enough.” His voice was low, firm, leaving no room for argument.

Without hesitation, he grabbed her wrist, his grip possessive but not painful, and pulled her through the sea of bodies. He didn’t stop until the cool night air hit them, the bass from inside now a distant thrum behind the slam of the door.

He finally let go of her hand, dragging a rough hand through his dark hair as he took a deep breath, trying to rein himself in. His knuckles stung, but he didn’t care. He turned to face her, his stormy eyes locking onto hers with a mixture of frustration, heat, and something deeper he wasn’t ready to name.

“You wanna play games? Fine. But don’t expect me to just stand there while some asshole puts his hands on you like that.” His voice was rough, his usual teasing edge nowhere to be found.

He stepped closer, towering over her slightly, his jaw clenched. “Tell me you didn’t want me to do that,” he challenged, searching her expression, daring her to lie.

to say that pia had never experienced this kind of tension was an understatement. the level in which they were meticulously taking a step ahead before the other caught up to them. she didn't really want to dance, especially with this guy but at the same time was she going to let kai have the satisfaction of knowing that he was getting to her? oh, absolutely not.

she rolled her hips, shifting her body so she was now facing away from him as she shifted in a way she was sure was going to get a physical reaction from her dance partner any second now. she effortlessly moved so she was all the way down to the floor and then glided her way back up, extending her long legs to standing as she wrapped her arms around the male's neck.

she was aware what he was doing, and if she would let her guard down and the true emotions spill out it would show she was quite irritated in that moment. the fact that this girl in his grip was so gorgeous, and peppy, and obviously completely intoxicated by him. did she wish it was her? of course she did.

she knew this wasn't very healthy behaviour, acting in this way of one upping another. and yet she couldn't stop herself so she shifted her head to whisper into this guys ear and he began pressing kisses to her neck as he tucked her hair behind her ear.

for a moment she could pretend it was kai, and block out the rest of the world but her eyes bounced back to him with this glitter in her orbs like she was trying to prove something and bit her lip. this guy was obviously feeling ballsy and pulled her in for a kiss, admitedly his lips didn't taste like the ghost of a cigarette and liquor but she welcomed it for the purpose of this game.

Kai’s smirk faltered the second he saw the shift in her expression. He hadn’t expected that. He’d meant to rile her up, to keep their game going, not—whatever this was. Not her shutting down, withdrawing, like he’d just snuffed out the fire between them with a careless flick of his wrist.

His jaw tensed, watching her clutch her jacket, the way her lips pressed together like she was trying to hold back more than just words.

“Pia—” His voice came out rougher than he intended, but she was already looking away, already dismissing him, already convincing herself that this was over. And that—God, that didn’t sit right with him.

Before she could take a step, he reached for her wrist again, this time gentler, more deliberate. “That’s not what I meant.” A sigh left him, low and sharp, like he hated having to say this out loud. “You think I don’t—” He stopped himself, exhaling through his nose. His grip tightened just slightly, not enough to keep her there if she really wanted to go, but enough to make her listen.

“I don’t want her, you've got to know that” he admitted, quieter now, but no less intense. “We've been playing these games all night. I don’t get jealous. I don’t—” He ran a hand through his hair, looking away for half a second before locking his gaze back onto hers, something raw flickering beneath the frustration. “But then you make an appearance here in this shitty little club where you clearly stand out, and suddenly, I’m throwing punches in bars and watching every move you make like a fucking idiot.”

His tongue darted out to wet his lips as his grip on her wrist loosened, fingers dragging down her arm before dropping away completely. His expression hardened again, but not before she caught the ghost of something else—something vulnerable, something unguarded.

“So yeah. Go back inside if that's what you want. Go find someone else to dance with.” He tilted his head slightly, dark eyes scanning her face like he memorised it. “But don’t stand here and act like it's not you that I want to take home with me tonight. That’s bullshit, and we both know it.”

of course he was going to twist it to his advantage. couldn't just outwardly admit that he was envious about the fact that she was close to another male, and that she let him kiss her as well. the fact was pia was a pretty confident person, she knew she was fortunate to be graced with good looks and she was content in herself and her own skin, however kai definitely made that waver.

the fact was, his comment didn't make her want to go out there and kiss someone else just to see if he was bluffing, oh no, it made her feel withdrawn instead. he'd officially put a stop to their little game in one fleeting sentence and he didn't even realise it. now she felt dejected and not to mention that she was even more furious with him than she was earlier, which she didn't think was possible.

"oh okay.. fine, have it your way.. you hit him because he was an asshole, right.. cos he was dancing with me, because you didn't seem to know him so that's not a very credible answer. but i am done, kai.. made it clear that i'm not exactly desireable anymore, so i'll save myself embarassment and quit while i'm ahead, hmm?"

she curved her jacket over her arm, her nostrils flaring with clear irritation as she looked away from him for a moment, lips pursed.

"have fun with your peppy little date over there."

Kai chuckled, watching the exact moment her resolve snapped. There was no real fight left in her. He felt it in the way her body trembled, the way she moved against him, chasing something she wasn’t even trying to deny anymore.

"Thought we weren't doing this again", he murmured, voice thick with amusement, his hands guiding her hips with that lazy kind of confidence that always drove her insane.

Her breath hitched when he shifted beneath her, angling himself just right. He knew she was close, could feel it in the way her body clenched, in the little gasps she tried to swallow down.

His hand slipped between them as he continued to thrust into her, fingers finding the spot that made her whole body jolt. "There you go," he murmured, voice low and coaxing as he circled it with practised ease.

well she was a complete goner now wasn't she? she knew that some part of her was going to betray her and work against her words. she was moments away from caving entirely, to confessing that she needed him and how she actually didn't want this to end especially right this second.

but if tonight had taught her anything she wasn't going to be the person to led her guard down first AGAIN, so of course she was going to say she didn't want this, or him. the way he was looking up at her, he looked so incredibly delicious this was going to be difficult for her and she knew it.

the fact was as soon as he thrusted inside of her and she felt like every nerve ending in her body was about to erupt, she let go of her decision immediately. fuck it, she'll deal with the consequences later. that was future pia's problem. "fuck sake." she rolled her orbs with frustration but it was also mixed with pure lust.

she rocked harder this time, and the sensation that drove through her body was something else. the fact that he was the only guy to get her off, what was the harm in taking advantage of that just a little?

"Of course, it isn't," Nadia replied, rolling her eyes. "I'd be pretty crap at my job if it was." She held her hand up, admiring the crimson red staining it. "Pretty, isn't it? There's no other red quite like the colour of blood."

open to anyone! muse: amar 'ozzy' oza, wanderer / musician. age 29-32.

"is that your blood?"